


Then & Now

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 2003, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Ben Braeden is Dean Winchester's Son, Birthday, Charlie Ships It, Christmas, Dean Ships It, Dean is Bad at Feelings, F/F, F/M, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Geek Dean, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Nerd Dean, New Year's Eve, Oblivious Castiel, Protective Gabriel, Roommates, Sam Ships It, Surprise Party, Thanksgiving, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3840319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Uh," Castiel buttoned his pants. "Who are you?"<br/>The man raised an eyebrow, "I could be asking you the same question-- you are in my house."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then & Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Champagne glasses, party favors. Icicles and curling up by the fire. The feeling of losing your keys, outer space. Starting anew.

 

 

 

**January 1st, 2003:**

**Boston, MA**

 

     Castiel stared at his feet, cupping his hands to his mouth. He was fairly certain bus rides were not supposed to last this long, especially from Cambridge to Boston. What was normally a fifteen-minute drive, just about 3 miles, had ended up taking over three and a half hours. Castiel was getting cold.

     As his stop neared, Castiel found himself shivering. He clutched his trench-coat tighter and surveyed the bus. Despite being practically desolate to begin with, the bus seemed empty and distant. Castiel could see his breath.

     There was a woman sitting at the back of the bus, reading. A toddler was asleep at her side, his head resting on her lap. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and Castiel could tell she was tired, distressed. He felt compelled to say something, ask her what she was reading. He knew she was going to spend New Years alone, that it was probably her first holiday alone in years, but he didn't feel it was his place to say anything. He didn't _want_  to say anything.

     “Charles Street,” the bus driver called out. Castiel let out a shaky breath. He gathered his things and fixed his tie, walking up to the front of the bus.

     “Thank you,” he told the driver with a small smile. He turned back to look over the bus and saw the woman staring at him. He laughed awkwardly and turned back to the steps. “Happy New Years.”

 

...

     “You’re late,” Michael shook his head. He stood in the dining room, looking at the food laid out on the table. “Dinner’s going to begin soon.” He looked Castiel up and down, practically scowling at his choice of clothing, “You should go wash up.”

     Castiel sighed but did as he was told.

     Michael had a fairly large bathroom. It was about twice the size of his dorm and was decorated with expensive artwork. The floor tiles were made of pearl and a large chandelier hung from the ceiling. The room reminded him of a Leonardo da Vinci painting. 

     There was a golden mirror, one that ran the width of the wall, just above the sinks. Castiel used it to check his reflection. His hair was sticking up in various directions. This wasn’t unusual. His face was covered in dirt, bright pink, and his tie was askew. He looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks. He did not fit the formality of his brother's dinner party.  _  
_

     Castiel ran his hands under the warm water before washing his face.

 

...

 

     Castiel entered the dining room just in time to say grace, something they did all the time when they were younger. Once Michael moved out, the family stopped saying grace, going to church, praying altogether. They focused on raising themselves.

     Michael sat at the head of the table. He sat up straight, facing the empty seat across the table, reserved for their father. His hands were clasped in his lap, and he was whispering to his fiance, Eve.   

     Eve sat to Michael's right, dark hair tied up in a bun. She wore a white dress and diamond earrings. Castiel couldn't see her face, but he could tell she was tense.  

     Across from Eve sat Anna, Castiel's youngest and only sister. At 19, she was the second youngest Novak after 16-year-old Samandriel.  Her strawberry hair was braided and slung over her shoulder. She wore a new dress, a dark blue mermaid Michael had gotten her for her birthday. Her boyfriend sat beside her.   

     Apart from Anna, nobody knew Bartholomew. He was quiet and judgmental, only making snide comments from time to time. His blonde hair was combed back and his navy blue suit was complemented by a black tie. He and Anna had been together since high school. He was the quarterback, the prom king. He and Anna had come back from Yale with big news.

     Across from Bartholomew was Samandriel, the youngest Novak. He wore dark jeans and a red shirt that said The Mona Lisa. His eyes were closed and he was rubbing his temples. His cuticles were stained green.

     Next to Bartholomew sat Gabriel, Castiel's 25-year-old brother. He wore a light pink shirt and polka-dotted tie. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked as though he was going to pass out at any given moment. 

     Beside Gabriel sat Lucifer, the second oldest Novak. He had short blonde hair and thick glasses. He wore a white suit and a red tie. He said it was symbolic. Of what he wouldn't say. 

     Lilith sat beside Lucifer. She had long blonde hair and wore a short, white a-line. Her phone was clutched tightly in her hand, waiting for a call from her nanny about her daughter, Ruby. 

     

     The other three seats were empty.

 

…

     “What?” Lucifer asked. Castiel suddenly became interested in his steak. “You told Dad I’m not coming to the wedding?”

     Michael nodded. "If you're honest with yourself, Luke, you know you wouldn't enjoy being there, anyway. I'm just doing you, along with everyone else who's coming, a favor."

     "Well, what if I want to come?" Lucifer set down his knife. Michael raised an eyebrow, "You're my brother. I want to be there to, like, support you and stuff."

     "You would ruin the whole ceremony-- probably get arrested on the way there." Michael snarled. Eve nodded.

     “I haven't been arrested since I was sixteen," Lucifer pushed, "If somebody getting arrested is your biggest concern, then I'm afraid it's Gabriel you should be worried about."

     Gabriel stopped eating. “I slept with some people and got paid for it, woke up in jail. Big deal-- I was 21."

     Anna shook her head, "Gabe, you disappeared. And a month later we got a call saying you were in Connecticut being charged with prostitution."

     "Nobody's perfect." Samandriel shrugged. "We can't all go to Yale and date our high school sweethearts. Don't judge others for not being you, Anna."

     "She's not," Bartholomew sipped his champagne. "I know very well that Gabriel was addicted to coke. I know that he went missing for weeks and had the family worried sick. He only cares about being the center of attention, and honestly--"

     Gabriel bit his cheek. "That's real funny, _Bart_ , considering you know nothing about me."

     Bartholomew growled, "Trust me, I know enough. You're a fuck-up." He pointed toward Lucifer, "And so is he."

     Lucifer laughed, "Who isn't? I mean, come on, you're dating my sister! The very sister who sent _nudes_ to a guy over _ten years older than her_ when she was _fourteen_. In this family, we're all fucked up. It's our blood-- our mom was a psycho freak who offed herself in the name of God, our dad is a drunk who's never there for us. We have issues!"

     Michael threw down his knife. "Lucifer, do not blame your problems on our parents. They have done everything they could to ensure we grow up safe. Though you may not see it, they do care."  

     "Well," Lucifer frowned. "Do you see them here? Because I don't. You all try every year to get their attention, you try so hard. But it never works. Dad is a selfish prick, and you all know it. I'm just the only one brave enough to admit it." He sat down.

 

     The rest of the dinner was eaten in silence.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**January 1st, 2003:**

**The Apartment - Boston, MA**

 

Charlie frowned as she set down her phone. She was expecting a call from her ex, but it was now very clear that it wasn't going to come. She was sprawled across the couch, a box of tissues at her side, a bottle of wine in hand. She shook her head as she brought the bottle back to her lips. 

     "Still no call?" Charlie hadn't heard Dean enter the apartment, but she really didn't care. She sighed and shook her head. "Well, screw her. I always thought there was something off about her."

     Charlie snorted, "Yeah. Only 'cause she beat you at Mortal Kombat."

     "Nobody," Dean sat down beside her, moving her legs on top of his lap, "And I mean nobody, beats me at Mortal Kombat." 

     "I'm sorry." Charlie sat up, pulling her knees to her chest, a hint of a smile on her face. 

     "Hey. I've got years of experience-- you know how much I played with Sam?" 

     Charlie set down her bottle. "Yeah, Dean. If he were here, you'd be playing right now."

     Dean smiled, "So, yeah. Cheer up, Charles. How 'bout I make us some popcorn and we marathon ourselves some Star Trek?" 

     "That sounds tempting," Charlie stood up. "But I think I'm going to go out tonight. It is New Years, after all. You're welcome to come."

     Dean shook his head, "I'd better not. I've got that thing with Lisa in the morning, and it's probably best I don't show up, um, hammered." He smiled.

     "Suit yourself."

 

* * *

 

 

**January 1st, 2003:**

**Boston, MA**

 

     Castiel stood out on Michael's balcony, looking over Boston's skyline. He toyed with his tie and thought about everything his family had become.

     To a kid from a small town like Pontiac, Illinois, the idea of large cities and skyscrapers seemed so surreal. He had always been told of Ivy League schools, like Brown and Princeton, yet had never even thought about being accepted into one.

     He spent his childhood cooped up in his room with one of his father's books, or driving around Pontiac with Luke and Gabe. He didn't have to worry about meeting new people or what was considered socially acceptable. Everyone in Pontiac knew that he was a Novak, and that Novaks were different. He was happy with that.

     But, when he was fourteen, something changed. His father started making more money, selling more books, and they moved to New York. They bought a big penthouse loft in the Upper East-Side, and renovated an old church in Norwich.   

    The next thing he knew, Castiel was going to Harvard, and Michael was a neurosurgeon. Luke had settled down and had a few kids, Anna became a lawyer, and Gabriel moved to God knows where to become an actor. They’d forgotten all about Pontiac, everything they had as children.

    The door creaked open, revealing a blonde man with thick glasses. He pursed his lips as he slipped past Castiel and reached towards his back pocket, pulling out a pack of Marlboro cigarettes.

     “Your brother’s a douche potato, Castiel,” he ranted, placing a cigarette between his lips. His left hand reached up towards his mouth, lighting it. He held up another. “You want one?”

     “I wouldn't go that far,” Castiel took the cigarette from his brother’s hand before asking to borrow his lighter.

      “You sure, man?” He exhaled a mouth full of smoke, “he told Dad that I wasn’t coming to the wedding.”

      “That’s ridiculous, I agree, but--”

      “I mean. We're brothers. This wouldn't have happened if we hadn't become all rich and famous, anyways.”

      “He can be a dick sometimes.” Castiel turned to lean on the railing, breathing out a cloud of smoke.

      “Sometimes?” he laughed. “The money's gotten to his head and I'm sick of it. He used to care about us, but now all he cares about is impressing Dad.”

       Castiel shook his head, but Lucifer continued, "There's not even anyone to impress anymore. Dad doesn't care about the wedding, he doesn't care that Eve is pregnant or J--"

       "Wait," Castiel gaped, "Eve is pregnant?"

       Lucifer leaned on the railing, "Uh. Yeah. Yeah, she is." He let out a breath of smoke.

       "What about no sex until marriage?" Cas turned around, elbows on the railing.

       "Nobody actually follows that rule, you know? Anna and Bartholomew are probably fucking right now."

       "I follow that rule." Castiel blinked at him. "I have for 21 years."

       Lucifer laughed. "You're the only one."

       Castiel gaped. 

       Lucifer sat down. "You're so innocent, Castiel." He motioned for Castiel to join him on the ground. "I mean," his breath smelled of mint and dirt, "Who wants to enter a non-sexual relationship? You've got to break the pact at some point."

       All Castiel was getting from his brother was:  _Lies, lies. Lies, lies, lies._

 Michael appeared at the glass door. He tapped his watch and then turned around, rolling his eyes.

      Lucifer sat up. "Do you want to get out of here?"

 

 

* * *

 

      **January 1st, 2003:**

          **Lloyd's Bar - Boston, MA**

 

     It wasn't that Charlie was upset, really. She was just shocked-- she and Gilda had been together for two years. That’s two years of movies dates and awkward sessions of shower sex; two years of hand holding and Magic The Gathering. Two years, the best two years of Charlie's life, spat in her face. 

     Of course she was upset when she came home to find her girlfriend giving the delivery guy a handjob. Of course she screamed and cried and _how long has this been going on_ and _I never want to see you again._ She wasn't the one at fault. Gilda was. 

     Charlie set down her shot glass, trying to ignore the guy next to her who was trying to get in her pants. 

     She had told him she was a lesbian, but he had been a dick and said there was no such thing and that maybe if she sucked him off she'd quote-unquote "become straight."  _Maybe I will go home with you. And cut off your ballsack.  
_

     "What's your name?" she asked, suddenly fed up. 

     "Pete," he smiled. He somehow got uglier.

     She smiled back. "Pete," she repeated. "Tell me, Pete," she took his beer. "You get off on harassing women?"

     "What?" Pete raised an eyebrow. "This ain't harassment."

     " _Aggressive pressure or intimidation,_ Pete." Charlie rolled her eyes. Pete went wide-eyed. She winked. "Yeah. It is."

     Pete nodded.

     "Exactly. Now my dad is a cop." She looked over her shoulder. "And he sure as hell doesn't want his baby girl to come home and tell him about this creep at a bar harassing her into doing things she's not comfortable with."

     "What?" Pete looked in the same general direction. 

     Charlie blinked, "I think it'd be best if you left." 

     She waited until he was gone to move.

 

...

 

      It was dark. She couldn't see anything. 

      She wobbled, almost tipping over. It was either from the alcohol or the grown man leaning on her shoulder.

      She was covered in vomit.

 

* * *

 

 

**January 1st, 2003**

**Unknown - Presumably Massachusetts**

 

     When Castiel woke up, he was in his underwear on some stranger’s couch. His head pounded and he felt a bit nauseous. Other than that, he was completely fine.  

     He sat up, surveying the house. It was small-- probably an apartment-- and the living room and kitchen were connected; there was no dining table. There were five other doors; one of them, hopefully, the front.

     As he put on his pants--  _he had no idea where his other clothes were_ \-- he came to the conclusion that the person living in the house was a major geek. There were dozens of posters on the walls, bookshelves full of CS Lewis and J R. R. Tolkien, and various lightsabers hidden behind several pieces of furniture. _  
_

                

     He stood up, deciding to try the door closest to the kitchen area. It was isolated from the other doors, indicating that it was the entrance-- or, in Castiel’s case, exit.  _It’s also the only door without a Star Trek poster on it,_   _so it is less likely to be a bedroom._

     Just as he gripped the doorknob, somebody else tugged the door open.   **  
**

     "No, Lis, I'm just saying: Ben is my kid too. If--" there was a man standing in the doorway, gaping-- or at least trying to. He had a cellphone tucked between his ear and shoulder, a doughnut hanging out of his mouth. "Hold on a second. I'll call you back."

 

...

 

       "Uh," Castiel buttoned his pants. "Who are you?"

               The man raised an eyebrow, "I could be asking you the same question-- you  _are_  in my house."

               "My name is Castiel," he ran a hand through his hair. "There was a girl with red hair... I think. Uh-- I was at a bar with my brothers, and I walked up to her with--" he squeezed his eyes shut. "With the intent of sleeping with her. I'm sorry, are you married?"

               "What? Charlie?" the man was in the apartment now, door still wide open. "No, Charlie doesn't swing that way, dude."

               "I don't--" Castiel narrowed his eyes, "What way  _does_  she 'swing'?"

               "Not yours-- I promise you," the man smirked, walking over to the fridge. "She's practically a female Han Solo; she even quotes 'im." He took the barely filled carton of milk out and downed its contents. "Close the door, would ya?"  
  
               Castiel slowly shut the door, biting his lip. "What am I doing here?" He sighed. "Am I in Boston? Where are my clothes? What's a 'Han Solo?' And do you  _know_  how disgusting that is?"

                "Woah, dude. Slow down-- I'm not Dr. Phil," the man sat on the counter, grinning widely, "I'm Dean."

                "Well,  _Dean_ ," Castiel sighed. "I'm having a crisis. Where is this Charlie? Why do you live with her? Are you related? Did you notice me at all, when I was passed out on your couch?"

                "Yes, man," Dean let out an exhausted laugh. "I friggin' undressed you, for crying out loud. It was a little weird-- and you were covered in vomit, which was kind of disgusting-- but I looked past that because my very lesbian best friend had just brought home an unconscious man. Your clothes are in the dryer."

                "And Charlie?"

               "In her room." Dean shook his head, smirking, "You want something to eat?"

 

* * *

 

 

      **January 1st, 2003:**

**The Roadhouse - Boston MA**

 

 

"Hey, Pam," Dean placed himself on the bar, "I'm going to need two number fours and two cups of coffee, black."

     The woman behind the counter smiled. "Two? What, is Ben here? And he didn't say hi?"

     "Nah, just a friend. Name's Cas," Dean gestured, shaking his head. "You'd love him. He's tall, dark, the whole nine yards."

     "Sure he is." Pam stuck out her hand, "C'mere boy."

     The woman was dressed casually. She wore a tank-top and cargo shorts, a black apron tied around her waist. Her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, hear hair was tied in a loose pony-tail. "Dean says you're smoking, but he thinks Princess Leia is, too, so I don't know what to believe." 

     Castiel stared at Dean before stepping up to the counter. He cleared his throat, "Uh. My name is Castiel and I don't--"

     Pam shook her head, "Less talking, sweetheart. More feeling." Her hands cupped Cas's face, "It's good to see you're dating again, Dean."

     Dean laughed, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Nah. We're not dating, Pam. Get your head out of your ass-- you'll always be the girl for me."

     "Oh, how you flatter me," she kissed Dean's cheek. "Go to your table, someone will be with you in a minute."

 

...

 

       "Dean," a lanky man wearing a plaid button-down and a black apron approached their table, carrying a tray in each hand.  "Pam tells me you're on a date?"

       Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "Pam just can't keep her mouth shut, hey? But no, I'm here with a friend. Not a date. No need to worry."

       The man looked over to Cas and stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you," he said. "Name's Garth. I'm Dean's wing-man. And you are?"

       Cas took his hand, shaking it awkwardly. "My name is Castiel. Dean and I just met this morning."

       Garth raised an eyebrow, "And he's taking you to brunch?"

       Castiel turned red, "No. I, uh--"

       "It's a long story," Dean interrupted. "Booze and bars, lesbians. Same old, same old."

       "I see, brother," Garth chuckled. "Here's your food. Two number fours-- Ellen's Famous French Toast-- and two coffees, black. Call me over if you need anything."

       Castiel looked at his plate as Garth walked away. There was a stack of french toast, coated in whipped cream and caramel. They were sprinkled with strawberries and powdered sugar. He looked back up to Dean, who was already halfway finished. 

       "So," Cas said, cutting down the center of his brunch. "Who's Ben?"  

       Dean looked up, wiping his mouth. "Ben's my son."

       Castiel blinked. "Why does everyone seem to think we were on a date?"

      "Teasing." Dean shrugged.

     "But aren't you seeing someone?"

     Dean stared at his coffee. "I just got divorced a couple months ago, actually."

     "Oh," Cas shook his head, "My condolences."

     "Don't worry," Dean shrugged. "It was a mutual thing. Didn't have the chemistry."

     "How's your son taking it?" Cas sat up. He wiped his mouth.

     "I don't know. He's moving to New York at the end of the month, and he seems excited. I just--" 

     "He seems too excited for your liking?"

     "Yeah. I just-- I don't know." Dean paused. "What about you? What's your family like?"

     "That's a long story." Cas chuckled. 

     Dean checked his watch. "I have time."

     Castiel told him how his family was generally very rich and very conservative, how it was fairly large and full of drama. He told him that he had four brothers and a sister, along with numerous cousins and family friends. He told him that his father and stepmother were rarely around, and that his mother died when he was young. 

     Dean told him that he could relate. That when he was four, something happened-- a burner was left on too long, something was wired wrong-- that set fire to his house. His only brother was just a baby, so he was the main priority. His dad tried and tried to reach his mom in time, but it was too late. He told him she didn't make it. 

     Castiel told Dean that he and his siblings were raised in a small town and their father owned one of the best-known churches. He told him that it was ironic that his sons always got into trouble. He told him how father became rich and famous and even more of a douchebag and drank too much and left their oldest brother to take care of them.

     Dean told him about his dad going crazy after his mom died, about him and his brother being taken in by their Uncle Bobby, who was more of a father than John ever was. John only visited on the holidays and birthdays. Dean told him how the last time he saw him, he was starting a family with a woman named Kate.

     Castiel told Dean how he was enrolled in Harvard until a couple weeks ago, and that he dropped out because he didn't feel like he was going to be happy in life if he became a doctor. He told him how stupid he felt last night, when he found out that he was a virgin at 21 because of some stupid rules his brother came up with and didn't follow. He told him how he went to a club with his older brother to try and lose his virginity.

     Dean told Cas about Lisa and Ben. How he and Lisa had been high-school sweethearts-- together since they were fifteen, the poster couple of Lawrene High. He told him about moving to Lawrence when they were nineteen, right before Ben was born, and losing any and all communication with their families back in Kansas. Dean told Cas that leaving home was his biggest regret. 

 

... 

 

      They stood outside the diner. Cas's hands were shoved awkwardly in his pockets as Dean spoke to one of the waitresses. Castiel could see his breath. He was about to walk away when Dean turned to him, a frown on his face. "You really have nowhere to live?" he raised an eyebrow. Cas nodded. "Dude, Charlie and I have a spare room. If you want--"

     "Dean," Castiel shook his head. "We just met. You really don't have to do this."     

     Dean's frown grew. "At least let me pay for your bus ride home."     

     Cas shut his eyes. "Dean--"    

     "Cas," Dean placed something in Cas's hand. He opened his eyes. A wad of cash and a piece of paper. On it: numbers. "Call me if you need anything."

 

 

* * *

 

**January 1st, 2003**

**Michael's Apartment - Boston, MA**

 

    Michael wasn't happy when Castiel showed up at his doorstep, wearing last night's clothes smelling of vodka and maple syrup. He rushed Castiel into the bathroom and gave him a change of clothes-- one of his old business suits, or something-- and a towel. He told Castiel that he had half an hour to shower and get changed, and he wanted to see him afterwards.  

     Castiel always felt selfish showing up at his brother's house in need of help. He rubbed his temples before turning the shower on. For a person who wanted to be independent, Castiel was very dependent on his family. He stripped down to his boxers and looked at his phone. He was not going to rely on Dean for help.  _He could straighten out his own life_. Within seconds, Castiel was in the shower.  

 

...

 

     "Where were you last night?" Michael was sitting in the kitchen, reading a cooking magazine. 

     Castiel sat beside him, adjusting his jacket. "I was at a bar with Lucifer. You were aware of this."

     "Castiel," Michael shut his magazine. "Lucifer came back to the dinner at two in the morning, drunk. Alone. He as going on about how his mission was complete. Tell me truthfully: where were you last night?" 

     "I was at a bar," Castiel paused. "With Lucifer. He said that he was going to be my wing-man, and that he was going to help me get laid. We got pretty drunk, and I went home with this lady. But I was unconscious, and she was a lesbian. She let me sleep on her couch and this morning I went out to brunch with her roommate."

      "Castiel," Michael rolled his eyes, "This is no time for jokes. What really happened?"

      "I am not lying, Michael."

       Michael shook his head. "Nevermind. What you did is not of import. You would have missed the call anyway."

       "What call?"

      "Father called last night to offer you a job opportunity. He said he received a call from your English professor, who asked him why you dropped out of Harvard." Castiel's heart stopped. He shut his eyes. "Father told him that you were planning on pursuing a career of renovating churches, such as he did. He then said that, if you'd like, you can move back to Pontiac and open our old church, and all will be forgiven." 

     Castiel opened his eyes. Michael was visibly upset. He had spent months preparing a dinner party, at which Father would be the guest of honor. Father ignored the invitation altogether and instead called to offer his younger brother a job.  _Who wouldn't be upset?_

    "How long do I have to decide?"

    "Until Monday." 

 

* * *

      

**January 4th, 2003**

          **Balthazar's Apartment - Cambridge, MA**

 

     It took three days and a phone-call from Michael for Castiel to call Dean. He sat on Balthazar's couch, reading a fashion magazine he found in the kitchen. Though he had memorized the number, he still entered it into his phone carefully. It rang once, twice, before it was picked up: "Hello?"

     Castiel shook his head. He meant to say:  _Hello, Dean, this is Castiel Novak. I am calling about the spare room you ever-so-kindly offered me. Is the offer still available?_

     What he actually said was: "Uh... is this... Dean?"

     There was a slight pause before: "Yeah. Who is this?"

     Castiel shut his eyes and held his breath. "This is Cas."

     "Cas?" He exhaled sharply. 

     He smiled, "Yeah. A few days ago, you offered me a place to live and I--"

     "Dude. If you're asking to move in, I'm game. Just say when?"

     "Would tonight be okay?"

 

* * *

 

 

       **January 5th, 2003**

**The Apartment - Boston, MA**

 

 

Castiel showed up to the apartment at three in the morning, carrying a plastic bag full of clothes. He knocked on the door, but nobody answered. He could hear voices from the other side of the door. He looked down at his phone, the text he got from Dean:  _u can just come in if no1 answers_

He quickly texted Dean back:  _I have arrived, Dean. Nobody is answering the door, but I can hear voices. Am I at the right address?_

Seconds later, he got a reply: _yea we heard the knock but were busy just come in_

     Cas quickly pulled the door open, revealing a dark room. He walked in and set his bag down. He turned on the lights and frowned. The room was empty. "Hello?"

     A voice came from the wall beside him. It was Dean. "We're in here, Cas. Come on in!"

     He found the door with a Spock poster on it. It led to a bright blue room, covered in posters. Dean and Charlie were lying on a mint bed, staring at a TV. Cas chuckled awkwardly, "What are you guys doing?" 

     Dean looked up and smiled. "Star Wars marathon." He patted the spot next to him, "Come join us."

     Castiel smiled.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**January 12, 2003**

**The Apartment - Boston, MA**

 

     Castiel wasn't used to living with people.

     Even when he lived with his brothers, his house was large and his family was distant enough that he never had others getting tangled in his personal life.

    When he was going to college, he never even had to worry about noisy, overcrowded dorms. Often, he stayed with Hannah and Balthazar, who were almost always sleeping or out with friends. He always had time to himself. 

     Until he moved in with Dean and Charlie. 

     It wasn't that his new roommates were nosey, or got tangled in his life. He just wasn't used to being woken up by the smell of eggs and bacon, or being asked how his day was. And it was taking a while to adjust to the change.

     So, when he came home from Michael's house, shivering cold, teeth shattering, he didn't expect a cup of hot chocolate to be forced into his hands. He didn't expect Dean to toss him pajamas, or Charlie giving him a blanket. He expected an empty apartment, cold and silent. He expected to strip down and curl up in bed, thinking about life and waiting to fall asleep. He did not expect to feel loved. 

     

 

* * *

     

**January 24th, 2003**

**The Apartment - Boston, MA**

 

     "So," Charlie placed herself on the kitchen counter. Castiel was pressing every button on the coffee machine, trying to figure out how it worked.  "I sent Dean on a wild goose chase."

    "Why?" Cas looked over his shoulder at Charlie, and then back to the coffee pot. It was starting to fill up with water. Not coffee. He groaned.

    Charlie chuckled, "I forgot you're new. Today's his birthday."

    Castiel blinked. "Really?"

    "Yep," Charlie said, taking out her wallet. "And you and I are going to throw him a surprise party." She got off the counter and walked over to their Bran box. She reached inside and pulled out two pieces of paper, and handed one to Cas. "You'll be handling decorations and food, I'll be handling music and guests and stuff."

     "What if I had plans already?"

     "You didn't." Charlie handed him $600. "The party starts at five."

 

...

 

     Castiel went to the mall. He bought balloons. Charlie had requested green and blue, but he got two different shades of blue. Also helium. 

     He bought streamers and party hats, though they weren't on the list. He bought tablecloths and forks and paper plates that read  _You're Turning Four._  It was the closest thing they sold to You're Turning 24, so Castiel just went with it.

     He bought party favors and games and ice cream. When he bought the cake, he wasn't sure what kind to get. So he got two.

     He went to a game store to get Dean a gift. He ended up choosing _Mortal Kombat: Deadly Alliance_  for the Play Station 2. The man at the counter said that the game was good, so he got it. He hoped Dean thought it was good as well.

 

...

 

     Castiel made it back to the Roadhouse by three. It was full of people, and Castiel recognized quite a few of them. Charlie and their neighbor, Ash, stood at the back of the diner, making paper cutouts of Dean's name. Ellen and Pam were in the kitchen, cooking what smelled like burgers. Cas felt his stomach growl, but shook off the feeling when he saw Benny talking with a scraggly man.   

     Benny had been to the apartment quite a few times since Castiel moved in. Apparently, he was the best man at Dean's wedding. He lived in Lawrence with his fiancee, Andrea, and their daughter, Elizabeth, and helped Dean through his divorce. He was the one who Dean stayed with before he moved in with Charlie. 

     Cas set the bags on one of the tables and walked over to Benny. He shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for Benny to finish speaking. "So she had eight of them?"

     The man nodded. "Yeah, but most of them are sick, and I- I don't know what to do."

     Benny shrugged. "Hey, I know a guy, back in New Orleans-- he could fix any problem with kittens. He was a bit of a miracle worker."

     A loud ringing interrupted the two. The scraggly man pulled out his phone and sighed. "It's Becky. I should probably take this."

     "Take your time, brother."

 

     Cas cleared his throat, causing Benny to notice him. He pulled Castiel into a hug, arms wrapped tight around his waist. "Cas! It's good to see you." 

     Cas smiled. "It's good to see you, as well. How's Andrea?" 

     Benny grinned, but when wasn't he grinning? "Gorgeous. An amazing mother. Elizabeth is getting so big, you wouldn't believe it."  

     "Yeah," Cas nodded. "Uh, anyway... Who were you talking to, just then?" 

     "Name's Chuck Shurley. One of Dean's friends, I guess. He's great. An aspiring writer."  

 

...

 

     Dean showed up an hour early for his party. He had a cell phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, and grocery bags on each arm. "Yeah, thanks Bobby. I know. I-- yeah, hold on a second. I have to get ready for my part-- _holy mother of Christ._ Yeah, Bobby, I've got to go."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

**January 28th, 2003**

**Logan International Airport - Boston, MA**

 

       “I just don’t get why you think flying is safer, y’know?” Dean shook his head, grimacing. He held Ben’s suitcase in his left hand while the six year old tied his shoes. “I’m just looking out for Ben, here—I don’t want to… I don’t want to lose you guys.”

       Ben stood up and grinned, proud of himself. “Dad, did you see? I tied my shoe all by myself! Logan can’t even tie his shoes.”

       Dean looked at the clumsy knots on his son’s shoes and nodded vigorously, “I sure did, Buddy. Whad’ya say you teach me how to do that sometime?”

       “Dean?” Lisa spoke, sounding frustrated. Dean adjusted his cell phone. “I told you that the weather is not suitable to drive in—especially not to New York. I’m leaving now, anyway, Benny’s giving me a ride. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

       “Okay. Bye, Lis.”

       “Goodbye, Dean.”

       

…

 

       Dean sat with Ben, talking about New York, until Lisa arrived. The six year old was excited about seeing the Statue of Liberty and staying with Grandma. He talked about how Lisa had promised to take him to the places they’d read about, and how he was excited to make new friends.

       “I am going to miss my old friends,” he shook his head, “But they gave me a picture for when I feel sad.” He showed Dean a picture of him and his friends in a giant bear hug. “Plus, Mom said I can come visit them during the summer time.”

       “What can I say?" Dean smiled, "Your mom is right sometimes."

       “Sometimes?” Lisa’s voice came from behind the two. Ben turned around and grinned. "Your mom is always right.”

       "Sure," Dean winked. He patted his pockets and sighed. "I guess I better get going-- Ellen needs me back at the Roadhouse."

       Lisa shook her head. “You're not going to see us off?”

       "Nah," Dean shook his head. "I've got to go. Like I said, Ellen needs me."

       He knelt down and hugged Ben. "I'm going to miss you. Be good for your mom."

       "Bye, dad." Ben bit his lip. "I'm going to miss you too."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written with the help of some fabulous people: Ali_R95 and camiheall. I had this really thought out thing for the end of the chapter, but then I kind of deleted my other fic and am now rushing to fix this. I promise that the next chapter's notes will be much more thought out. Suggested song: Imagine Dragons -- It's Time. It fits the whole January theme pretty well. If you have any questions, feel free to message me on tumblr: human-with-human-powers.


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